Chenalai
by Sargent Snarky
Summary: Chenalai has a rather twisted herritage: half drow, a quarter human and a quarter wood elf. A chronical of her adventures. [discontinued]
1. The meeting of Morro and Chenalai

**Disclaimer:** I own copies of the books or have borrowed them from the library. I have no connection whatsoever with R.A. Salvatore, the people in charge of the Forgotten Realms series or the people involved with Dungeons and Dragons in general. However, that doesn't mean I can't come up with my own story and fiddle around with theirs! (wink, wink)   
  
**Chapter 1**

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A hooded and cloaked figure bearing a staff stumbled along the dirt road, her cloak clutched tight about herself, perhaps to ward off the chill autumn wind, but also, perhaps to hide something. She made her way towards the nearby town, Thravven, which was at once strangely familiar to the stranger, but at the same time completely alien. Along the way, she passed many small farmhouses and cottages that were part of Thavven, but had yet to reach the town proper. Downtown, as it was jovially called by the locals, consisted of a main square, upon which were several wooden buildings that looked as if they had been new half a century ago, but had never been repaired or repainted, save for the signs. There was a bakery, an apothecary, stocked by the local witch who lived at the edge of a small wood half a mile to the west, general store, stable and an inn with a popular tavern. That place, called the Butterfly for some strange, forgotten reason, was the stranger's destination for dusk was swiftly approaching and she had no desire to spend another night out doors, especially since it felt like it was about to rain.  
  
Sure enough, the moment she stepped onto the threshold of the south end of the square, the heavens opened up and a cloudburst ensued. Cursing her ill luck in words only she knew, the stranger broke into a run and managed to reach the door to the Butterfly before her cloak grew too damp. Upon entering, she was immediately greeted by the smell of warm broth and spiced ale, both of which were exceptionally good at this establishment, or so she had heard. After standing barely a moment in the doorway, she moved off to find a seat within, subconsciously keeping to the shadows and consciously bypassing the counter where one signed in for a room. Unsure as to whether she would be staying in the town, the traveler decided not to rent a room until the last moment. So well did she blend with the shadows, the stranger's presence went undetected by sight as she made her way to a clean and clear table by the fire, but a little to the side. Also, her tread was light and so soft that even if the place had been deserted, one could not have heard the ancient floorboards creak as she padded across them.  
  
When the newcomer sat down at a table against the wall to the left of the fireplace, another did take note. The other sat a few tables away, in the corner, half hidden by flickering shadows. He was a young man of medium height and wiry build with deep green eyes set deep in a tanned and freckled face and framed by dull, brownish red hair that hung limp and strait to his shoulders. He had a triangular nose and a strong chin that rested in a long fingered hand while the other rested upon the table. The man wore a cloak, but it was cast back across his chair, revealing him to be wearing a plain, but well made cotton tunic of a tan color, deer hide pants and leather boots that came up almost to his knees. Around his waist was girt a thick belt of some animal skin and a sheath containing a short sword as well as multiple pouches and a scroll case hung off of it. There was also a loop for a staff, which was currently leaning against the wall next to him. It was a poll of unadorned gray wood with a single, seemingly lackluster crystal affixed to the top. Obviously he was a warrior mage, or at least a warrior mage in training.  
  
The mage's black eyes were fixed intently upon the other who had entered bearing a staff, his ale forgotten. He tried to probe her aura, feeling whether she was magical and, if so, how powerful. However, either she possessed no magic and simply carried a staff around for walking, or she knew how to dampen parts of her aura and prevent others from finding out exactly who or what she was. The mage was inclined to think the latter for there was a strangeness about her that, to him at least, indicated power and inhuman power at that. Also, due to his keen eyesight, he could faintly see carvings of long forgotten symbols of power and many runes upon the gnarled staff she bore.  
  
'Well, Marro," he thought to himself. "There are three ways you can do this. A: Observe her for a time, seeking a crack in her aura or a careless lapse of her concealment. B: Use your magic to create a breeze next time the door is opened and make her cloak and hood blow back. Or C: Go over and talk to her. The problems with the first choice are that there might not be either a crack or a lapse and that she will likely get suspicious of my staring or become aware that she is being probed, if she is not already. The problem with the second choice is that, if she is magical, she will sense my spell and either counter it or block it. The problem with the last choice is that, though I am good at wheedling information out of people, she may be hostile and it may be difficult. Oh well, I suppose I shall go with the last choice, but first I think I shall finish my ale.'  
  
The stranger was aware of the mage in the corner, but, after feeling his light probe and his own aura, she deemed him of little danger to her. He did continue to stare at her with a puzzled expression, but she decided that, should he figure out she was a magic user as well, he wasn't the type to blab it to everyone. Her cloak she had cast back from her shoulders, but her hood remained low over her face. Her body was slim, lithe and strong, yet shapely. However, her frame was short, barely topping five feet. Even her staff was a few inches taller than her. She was clothed in a pair of dark green leggings, an ever so slightly lighter green tunic with bilious sleeves, tucked into elbow-length black gloves, and girt by a thin leather belt, from which hung several pouches, the sheath of a long, curved knife and a single scroll case. An empty water flask, too, hung from the belt. Upon her feet was a pair of well-worn leather boots, reaching to her knees.  
  
The barmaid with the long, curly brown hair came to her and asked, "What would yeh be likin', miss?"  
  
"Hot tea, please," replied the traveler. Then, as an afterthought, added, "And a bowl of soup."  
  
Nodding, the brunette asked for the payment and it was brought out from one of the pouches. Smiling, the young employee of the Butterfly returned to the kitchen and retrieved soup and tea. A few short minutes later, she set the steaming bowl, a spoon and the chipped crockery mug of tea in front of the customer.  
  
"If there be anythin' else yeh want, just ask," said the barmaid as she turned to go to another who required more ale.  
  
With a contented sigh, the short female brought one hand to her hidden mouth and shifted something, though Marro could not figure out what. Then the lady sipped one spoonful of her stew. Finding it to her liking, she sipped another, letting her tea cool to a drinkable temperature.  
  
'Now or never,' Marro told himself, gulping the last drop of his ale. He stood up, tied his cloak about himself again then grasped his staff and walked over to the table of the traveler.  
  
"Excuse me," he said in a friendly voice. "May I sit here?" In an undertone, he added, "Actually, I want to ask you about your staff."  
  
The other watched him a moment, her spoon resting upon the bowl. Marro noticed that he could see the glint of two green eyes from the hood's depths. Then the eyes blinked and their owner nodded. "Certainly," said she, a strange lilt in her musical voice. "But might I inquire as to your name?"  
  
"Marro is what I am called," replied the young man, taking a seat opposite her and leaning his staff a short distance from hers. "And your name?"  
  
"I am called Chenalai. If you're trying to subtly use your staff to figure out the powers and magic of mine, it won't work. Believe me, you are about the third mage to try."  
  
Marro raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "Are you indeed a mage?"  
  
"Yes and no," was Chenalai's calm answer. "You see, I have never officially been called a mage and I don't think the Tower of Magi would accept me for reasons I shall keep to myself."  
  
Curiosity gnawed at Marro and he longed to ask more of those reasons, but the other's tone had had a rather strong finality, ending that subject. "I see. Those runes and symbols on your staff..."  
  
"What about them?"  
  
"They are ancient and full of great power. I have not seen them borne upon any staff save for a few old ones at the Tower, but yours is different. The wood is newer, the marks not so old. How do you know of the runes of power if, as you hint, you have never studied at the Tower? But if you did study at the tower once, then how did you gain access and knowledge of them? Only the magi of high rank can read them, much less use them and even then, most of the meanings are forgotten, yet you have all of them."  
  
Chenalai sighed softly, drinking the last of her soup. "The place where I studied, too, forbade the study and use of the runes unless you were high enough in power. Let us suffice it to say that I ignored the rules and learned all the secrets of the runes from the runes themselves. You can speak with the power of each rune, if you know how."  
  
The mage nodded, thoughtful. "Do you think you could teach me how?"  
  
"Maybe," replied Chenalai. "But most likely not."  
  
Somewhat discouraged, Marro sighed, his eyes gazing at the other's staff. "It is rather warm in here, by the fire," he said at length. "Why don't you take off your hood? Surely it is hot and stuffy having your hood up."  
  
Chenalai did not respond for she was quite unwilling to remove her hood. She was of mingled elf and human descent, her mother having been the daughter of a wood elf and a man, a mage. Her father, however, had been something entirely different; a dark elf, a drow. Chenalai did not like to dwell upon the details as to how she had come to be born. From her mother, the girl had inherited the eyes, figure and, from her grandfather, one of the greatest wizards ever to have lived, great talent for magic. From her father, Chenalai had received the skin, hair, speed and agility. Thus she bore this strange appearance: Almond shaped eyes of ever changing green, as the leaves of a tree in a summer breeze, set in an oval face of ebony skin and framed by a sheet of strait white hair. The hair was now plaited and hidden within her hood. Though the shadows cast by the hood hid her features well, Chenalai also wore a thin dark scarf wrapped in such a way as to cover all her face and hair, save the eyes. Therefore, as drow were hated and feared the world over, she had no desire to reveal her heritage so blatantly.  
  
"Well? Are you going to remove your hood?" repeated Marro, breaking into her thoughts. His black eyes peered into the shadows of her cowl, seeking her eyes, or some hint of her face. "If it is some horrible scar or mark you are hiding, don't worry. I could care less about scars and that sort of thing. If you are skulking in your cloak because you are on wanted posters somewhere, don't worry either. I won't turn you in."  
  
"Do you promise not to draw attention to what I look like?" Chenalai returned. "Do you promise not to run and not to fear or hate me for what I am?"  
  
Marro, slightly taken aback by the questions, hesitated only a moment before placing his hand upon his stave replying, "So do I swear upon my staff."  
  
Very slowly, Chenalai brought her hands to her head and pulled away the scarf, setting upon the table in front of her. Then, equally slow, she drew back her hood, her green eyes sad and pleading.  
  
Marro's jaw dropped open and he stared for several moments, before realizing that he was doing so. Closing his mouth, his eyes remained wide and an expression of fear, wonder and awe crept over his face.  
  
"So that's why you say the Tower would not accept you. You're a drow!" he breathed.  
  
"Half drow," corrected Chenalai, a mixture of dull acceptance, bitterness and sadness in her voice. "My father was Nalfein Do'Urden of the drow city Menzoberranzan. My mother was Aishel Harpell, daughter of Miriel of the wood elves and Barnor Harpell."  
  
Marro blew out his breath in a long stream. "What an interesting family tree you have," he said, then recalled something and gasped. "You mean to say that you are the grand daughter of /the/ Barnor Harpell? The greatest wizard of the past century and the only Harpell who ever gained acclaim from the Tower?"  
  
"Indeed," murmured the half drow, slightly embarrassed.  
  
"And would you, by any chance, be related to a drow by the name of Drizzt Do'Urden?"  
  
"Uh... Yes," replied Chenalai, stunned. "He is my uncle, though he be a year younger. You know of him? Then he did escape the Underdark! Where is he?"  
  
Marro was silent a moment, puzzling through his memory. "Well, I am a Harpell, and, if I remember my lineage correctly, you are my... um... cousin... though to what degree, I do not know. Anyway, Drizzt, a dwarf, a barbarian and a halfling came to Longsaddle not one day ago. I had to leave to deliver something here shortly after they arrived, though, so I had little chance to speak with them."  
  
"Where is Longsaddle? How long would it take me to get there on foot?"  
  
"A day south, along the road, if you ride, that is. I am unsure as to on foot, but I would guess that it would take at least half a day to a day longer if you do not tarry in one place for longer than a few hours. If you wait until tomorrow morning I shall journey with you and you can ride my horse in front or behind me," he offered. "Do you have a room? If not, I'll go and see if there are any more open."  
  
"Thank you! I will indeed travel with you tomorrow. No, I do not have a room yet, for I was unsure as to whether I would stay here. Here is the money for the room."  
  
Marro smiled and nodded, taking the coins and rising. He went to the innkeeper and purchased another room for the night. Returning to the table, he found Chenalai had wound the scarf about her head once more and pulled her hood over her face. He handed her the key and yawned, saying that he was off to bed and she should be too. Nodding, Chenalai followed him upstairs. Her room was across the hall from his and they bid each other good night.

* * *

So... What did you think? Please R & R... Also, if people wind up liking this story, I might just do anther about Chenalai's past and how exactly her parents, (and her mother's parents) met and... um... That story would be rated R... uh... yea...

I am almost done with chapter two, so it should be up by the end of this week... maybe? Hopefully?


	2. Ivy Mansion!

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Here it is! I told you I was almost done with it... I finished it last night, as a matter of fact.  
The disclaimer applies to this chapter as it did the last and it shall apply to all chapters forthcoming.

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Chapter 2

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The next morning, Chenalai and Marro left after a short breakfast. He led her to the stable and brought out a large and docile bay that smelled, then nuzzled Chenalai. Smiling, she pet the horse and fed it a dried apple Marro had in one of his pouches. Then, the wizard saddled Cherie, his horse and they mounted, Chenalai riding behind the wizard.  
  
Presently, they set off at a trot, riding out of Thavven and down the main road. They spoke together the entire time, Chenalai questioning Marro of the Harpells and Marro questioning Chenalai of the drow. Some things, she refused to tell him, saying that it was best that they remain buried within her memories. At this, Marro would shrug and ask a different question. In that way, they passed the time until around midday, they halted to have lunch. After a half an hour, though, they mounted again and continued on to Longsaddle, speaking of magic.  
  
Near dusk, they were intercepted by a group of Longriders. They waved to Marro and he spent a few minutes, chatting with his friends before they waved him on and said, "You know the way, Marro."  
  
Not long after, they reached Ivy Mansion. Chenalai gasped in surprise, staring at the building that defied all sense of structure. "Welcome to my home!" said Marro cheerily. "You don't have to worry about keeping your hood up here. We Harpells are welcoming to everyone."  
  
Therefore, Chenalai pulled off her scarf, tucking it into a pouch and she let her hood fall upon her shoulders, breathing in the air and grinning, happy to be free under the sun. A rail fence ran along the borders of the Ivy Mansion and sitting behind it was a fat man with a long beard, apparently meditating. He scowled when he noticed the pair, now dismounted from the horse.  
  
"What do you want?" he demanded, then paused, his expression softening. "Ha, Marro! You're back. That war fast. Usually you spend a couple of days in Thavven. Who... Oh, I see! Another drow! Where is Harkle when you need him? Come on in!"  
  
Marro lead Chenalai through a gate through the fence. The half drow had at first thought it an ordinary fence until she felt its magic and realized the fence she saw was merely an image upon an invisible barrier. As she followed the wizard, leading the horse, a blinding light assailed her. When she could see once more, the horse had been reduced to the size of a tabby cat. Surprised and intrigued, Chenalai bent down to examine it, even going so far as to pick it up and hold it in her arms.  
  
Grinning broadly, Marro explained. "It was Harkles' idea, I think. If you make animals such as horses small, then, not only to they require less feed, but less space as well. Also, with livestock, you raise a small cow to maturity, then, when you want to slaughter it, enlarge it once more!"  
  
Smiling and petting the small horse that contentedly nibbled at her glove, Chenalai replied, "A clever idea, but does the beef taste the same, I wonder?"  
  
Marro shrugged and lead the way to the bridge crossing the river. Chardin was seated upon his stool, staring at the water with a mixed expression of wonder, consternation and annoyance. He was the one who had made the stream run uphill, disappearing just at the top, or so Marro said, and the wizard now spent his days trying to figure out the invisibility under the bridge. It was not an ordinary dweomer, but an invisibility field.  
  
"Really?" said the half drow. "Curious... It would be quite an interesting study, though frustrating, I am sure."  
  
"Yes, it certainly is!" moaned Chardin, who had apparently listened to all of Marro's speech and Chenalai's comment.  
  
"Now then," began Morro, happy to show his new friend all the strange wonders of his rather bizarre family. "The building for horses is over there, but first you must cross the underbridge! It is quite interesting and wonderful, you see, for it prevents arguments in crossing from both directions! Come!"  
  
Then, the cheerful wizard jumped under the bridge, landing upon his feet with the manner of one who has done it so many times, they aren't even aware of their actions. He beckoned a hesitant Chenalai, then turned and walked down the bridge, leaping out at the other side with the same easy movement. The half drow shrugged and jumped onto the bridge after him, landing on her feet nimbly, despite the fact that she dropped her staff in an effort to prevent the horse from falling. Carefully, she picked up, or picked down as it were, the staff and slowly made her way across the bridge. Once upon the other side, she saw two buildings; the smaller of which being the one Morro headed for.  
  
"This is where we keep the horses."  
  
He knocked on the door and a woman wearing a dusty blue robe poked her head out. "Oh! Hello, Morro. Back so soon? Oh, you have a companion, I see. Hello there, young drow. You are the second drow to come to Longsaddle and in only a few days, too! Give me Cherie and let me go get the key to his cage. She took the horse from Chenalai and disappeared within the building once more. A few moments later, the lady emerged and handed a key to Morro.  
  
With a smile, the mage took the key and lead Chenalai towards Ivy Mansion proper. He wished to find Harkle, who had essentially been his father due to the fact that Morro's father Bidderdoo was currently a dog. However, luck was with them for at the moment they neared the door nearest to where Morro though Harkle might be, the wizard himself opened the door and came out, Bidderdoo trailing him. The dog saw Morro first and bounded over, leaping upon the mage and licking his face joyfully. Harkle cocked an eyebrow at Morro, then turned to Chenalai.  
  
"Another drow? Amazing!" he said with a warm smile. "Morro, I am afraid we didn't expect you back for a few days, so your room is, uh... being borrowed by one of your cousins who is visiting from Waterdeep. You can stay at the Fuzzy Quarterstaff, as can you. What is your name, by the way? Mine happens to be Harkle and this is Bidderdoo, Morro's, uh... father who became a dog through a bad potion accident."  
  
"Chenalai Do'Urden," replied she, hesitantly.  
  
Harkle's face registered amused surprise. "Are you really? Well, then, what relation are you to Drizzt?"  
  
"By blood, he is my uncle," she said. "But on my mother's side, I am the granddaughter of Barnor Harpell."  
  
Again, Harkle showed surprised, then he grinned. "Welcome to one of your ancestral homes, then. Perhaps you'll tell me exactly how you came to be half drow, besides a quarter human and a quarter wood elf? Not now? Perhaps later during your stay then? You wonder how I know your genealogy. Well, almost all Harpells know that Barnor and Miriel of Neverwinter fell deeply in love."  
  
Chenalai herself was stunned and did not speak for a moment. Then she managed to mumble, "I see. Uh... Perhaps I can tell you the story later, though I hate to bring up such dreadful memories now. Is Drizzt at the Fuzzy Quarterstaff?"  
  
"Indeed!" replied Harkle. "I was just on my way there to ask when he and his companions would be leaving tomorrow."  
  
"Then let us go to the Fuzzy Quarterstaff!" interrupted Morro.  
  
And so they turned, heading back to the tavern, the dog accompanying them, wagging his tale the whole way. It was located at the back of Ivy Mansion and consisted of a large circular chamber with a small room that was the kitchen inside the bar. The bar was in the exact center of the bar and the barman looked up as they entered, waving to Morro, who seemed to know absolutely everyone in Ivy Mansion and Longsaddle. At the back of the chamber was a small stage upon which musical instruments played them selves to the conducting of an old wizard. Occasionally, at crucial moments in the music, he would snap and rainbow sparks flashed out of the horns.  
  
Near the fire was an occupied table at which sat a dwarf, craggy of face, but possessing a rather long beard. The dwarf's back was turned to the door. On his right sat a chubby halfling, his face a picture of happiness and amusement. On the left of the dwarf sat a tall, muscular barbarian, handsome and bearing an obviously magical warhammer. Across from the dwarf sat a drow, his lavender eyes watching those who had just entered with curiosity. At first, he only saw Morro, Harkle and the dog, all of who had entered first. Then his purple eyes met the green of Chenalai's and widened considerably, shock and amazement being the first things to register in them. Chenalai, not quite as surprised for she already knew Drizzt was there, still was unable to move for a moment. The companions of Drizzt turned to see what had shocked him and gasped as well when they saw Chenalai.  
  
Drizzt stood up, breathing a name. "Chenalai." Then he managed to make his voice work and he called out, "Chenalai!"  
  
The half drow smiled softly, sadly. Then, she snapped out of her amazed stupor and ran over to the table. The dwarf stood up, too, and stepped in front of her. The barbarian stood up, glaring at the female drow and the halfling just sat there, looking from Drizzt to Chenalai and back.  
  
"Hold on jest a moment, drow!" growled the dwarf, his hand upon his axe.  
  
He was about to say more when Drizzt spoke. "Chenalai? Is that really you?"  
  
The drow came around the table, staring at the green-eyed elf. "Yes," she replied. "It's been a while. You've come to the surface all right, I see."  
  
Drizzt grinned and nodded. The two then embraced each other. "This is Bruenor," introduced Drizzt, gesturing first to the dwarf and then to the barbarian. "This is Wulfgar and the halfling is named Regis. Friends, this is Chenalai, technically my niece but more like a sister; a true sister."  
  
Chenalai bowed to the others.  
  
"Why the green eyes, then?" questioned Regis. "From what I gathered, drow almost always have red, yellow or orange eyes with the occasional purple or bluish tint, but never green."  
  
"They come from my mother, half wood elf and half human," replied she, hesitantly. "This is Morro Harkle, by the way," she added.  
  
Harkle broke in at this moment. "Before you all get lost in discussion, might I ask when you shall be leaving tomorrow?"  
  
"Early in the morning," grunted Bruenor, still eyeing the new drow warily.  
  
"I shall see you then," said Harkle. He turned, and with a wave, he left the tavern accompanied by Bidderdoo,  
  
Morro waved to them, then turned back to the others. Realizing that the two kinsmen would likely want to talk to each other in private, he cleared his throat. "Well, Chenalai, I had better go see what exactly my cousin is doing with my room before I eat. Bye." The wizard followed Harkle and the dog out the door.  
  
Wulfgar gazed at Chenalai's staff, especially at the strange symbols. The runes were unknown to him for the most part, save for several dwarven ones he espied, but the barbarian was certain of their magic. "You are a mage," he stated, with an edge upon his voice. Though he had accepted the Harkle's magic and idiosyncrasies, Wulfgar was distrustful of dark magic and her perceived that Chenalai knew much of it.  
  
"I am," she replied, meeting his gaze steadily as it turned upward.  
  
"Bah," scoffed Bruenor. "Ye be a dark mage, that's sure enough. We've no dealings with the dark, be ye kin to Drizzt or no!"  
  
Chenalai sighed, turning her clear gaze downward, to the floor. "I study all forms of magic, not simply the dark alone. However, it is the dark with which I am most aquatinted, as you would be, too, had you lived in Menzoberranzan."  
  
The dwarf heard the bitter note in her voice.  
  
"Bruenor! Wulfgar!" scolded Drizzt. "Chenalai, like me, follows not the ways of the drow. The blood of her mother runs through her veins more so than her father. You may trust her as you would me."  
  
Chenalai continued to gaze sadly at the floor. Then Bruenor's glare softened and he growled something about being sleepy and an early morning. Then he turned and went to his bed. Wulfgar, still untrusting of Chenalai, shrugged and followed. Neither intended to sleep, but both were troubled by the sudden appearance of the new drow. So, they sat together, discussing her and contemplating their meeting with her. Regis, interested to no end in the newcomer, remained at the table, still sipping at his ale. Drizzt shot him a look and, though he desperately wished to talk with Chanalai, the halfling scuttled off, taking the hint and deciding to go on a walk.  
  
That left the two of drow blood alone. Drizzt sat down and Chenalai sat opposite, laying her staff upon an empty chair. They each ordered a drink, Chenalai also ordering a small meal.  
  
"So," began Drizzt. "You left after I did, remaining in the city, something I could not bear to do. How and why did you finally leave?"  
  
With a sip of her wine, Chenalai began the tale of her escape from the Underdark.

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Author's comments, etc.

Thankyou Zarbok and Waldfree for taking the time to read and then post a review of my story1

Firstly, something doesn't seem quite right with this chapter and I'm not sure what. Something with the dialong isn't right is what I am thinking, but I am not sure. Comments? Suggestions? Ideas? Please?

I am still having difficulties coming up with a title. If anyone has any suggestions, please say so in your review. Which brings me to my next comment.

**Please R&R!**


	3. Her past

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I still need a good title! If you've any suggestions, please tell me!  
  
Yea, yea... I stayed up until four seventeen in the morning typing this, so  
if it is a bit odd, that's probably why.

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Chapter 3  
  
((Note: The complete tale of Chenalai's escape and subsequent journey is not here told. I may, at some later point, write it down, but for now you must be satisfied with what little she told Drizzt))

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"I'll assume you wish, also, to know what I did with myself before making up my mind to leave. After you departed, I found myself in the position of having to aid in the battle against the house Hun'ett. It was a rather long battle, but I shall not speak of it for the things I saw... I do not wish to think of again." Chenalai's tone was somber and a shiver passed down her spine as she drove away the memories that fought to make themselves play before her eyes as they did so many nights. Something else was fighting to make itself known, but Chenalai pushed that away too.  
  
Sipping her wine once more, she continued, "Eventually it ended with house Hun'ett being eradicated by the order of the ruling council. Save for their matron mother and the remaining soldiers who were made a part of our house. Disgusted though I was by the drow 'justice,' I could do nothing for I was in no mind to flee the city. Much happened..."  
  
Chenalai paused, shuddering once more, shadow passing over her eyes. It was not only a shadow of remembered horror, but also of great pain and something more. Drizzt watched her eyes, focused upon nothing, curiously. He read their expression and understood some of the mixed emotions, but there was something within her eyes that was not simply an emotion or a memory. Confused and deeply troubled, he was about to say something to snap Chenalai out of her reverie so that he could ask her what bothered her so. However, she seemed to drive it away just as he reached out a hand. Her eyes focused once more upon him and her hand involuntarily clutched her staff tightly. It was then that Drizzt noticed the symbols of darkness seemed most prominent, when before all had been equally faded. The runes almost seemed to glow with a dark light. But, as soon as he looked closer, the effect was gone and all the runes were again blended into each other.  
  
Giving him and her staff a curious glance, though too late to see the runes, she sighed. Then, with a deep breath, murmured, "In the time during the war and for a time after I did much research on ways out of the Underdark during those years and in my reading came across some very interesting subjects, which, I am afraid to say, distracted me for a time. Nevertheless, I did eventually come across extremely old maps depicting many routes to not only the surface, but other cities of the drow as well. However, before I was able to put my new knowledge – and maps – to the test, Malice (the name was spoken with an acidic bitterness and hatred that it made Drizzt cringe. It was not simply the hatred for her foul nature, but something else... something Chenalai would not reveal) sent many out into the Underdark in search of you. Lolth still wanted you dead, apparently. I was called back from Sorcere, most likely because Malice felt she needed protection and I needed watching. Thus, under her watchful eye, I was unable to do anything. She never let me out of her sight or the sight of her loyal minions. Until Dinin and Briza returned with news of their defeat at your hands, I was a prisoner in my own 'home.'"  
  
At this moment, the meal, which had been ordered, was brought to the table. Chenalai did not touch it, her appetite gone with the memories disturbed. She looked slightly paler than before and, every so often when she spoke of something particularly disturbing, she seemed to struggle for a moment before she could continue. It was in those times when the shadow came into her eyes and it seemed the symbols of darkness made themselves known. Still wondering at this, Drizzt simply waited until she continued. He, too, thought of painful memories from the Underdark, but they stung him the less for he had long since accepted them as part of himself and not something suffered to be forgotten.  
  
Taking a deep breath, the mage continued, her green eyes filled with bitter recollections. "I was there when she... she performed Zin-carla," she muttered, shuddering. "Then, I vowed to leave Menzoberranzan as you had. Still, though, I had no opportunity of escape, despite the fact that I was allowed to return to Sorcere. Not until Zaknafein caused himself to fall into the pit of acid did I have an opportunity to flee. In the confusion that followed, another house – I am unsure as to which one for I did not bother to check – attacked and I picked up my staff and those belongings I had made ready and departed Menzoberranzan. Whether or not house Daermon N'a'shezbaernon is still in existence, I know not nor do I care."  
  
She sighed and drank a few more swallows of the wine. "For at least four, maybe five months I wandered through the Underdark, seeking the tunnels that would take me to the surface. Several of those upon the maps had collapsed and several others were not as they had been depicted. I also was waylaid in another drow city for a short time. Nevertheless, despite the many things I encountered, I did make it out eventually, through the same entrance you must have used, I think, though it must have been after you had departed or at a time when you were absent from that cave. I saw signs of habitation, but gave them little heed."  
  
"At first, I simply wandered the land, keeping away from the dwellings of others and learning of the surface, though mostly during the night. After a time, I was able to walk in sunlight unharmed, though most of the things infused with dark magic began to disintegrate or at least loose their magic, save my staff and a few other items whose magic was drow magic, but not so dark. I've always had a talent for languages, so I picked up bits and pieces of the human tongue from spying upon farmhouses and such. Eventually, I was able to beg a rather frightened farmer for a cloak and for shoes. At first he tried to attack me, but all I did was parry his attacks. Eventually, however, he decided to give to me a cloak and boots rather too large for me. Thus, I was not unshod nor without shelter when winter came. Ah! What a beautiful thing winter is! Snow, gleaming crystals of ice is among the greatest things of beauty in the world."  
  
"Don't ask how I knew what plants were edible and how to hunt for things such as deer. It came on instinct, I suppose, but I really don't know. Whatever the reason, I was able to make it through the winter... barely. When spring came, I was restless and departed from the small cave I had made my home and wandered about until I came across a small village. There, I surrendered myself and beseeched the people to teach me their language and the ways of the surface. At first, they were dubious of my claims that I would cause them no harm. Then, an old woman, the town witch I believe, came to the small store room within one of the buildings where I was held and spoke with me for some time, though we found communication difficult with my limited grasp of their tongue. Then she left and I was alone for several days without any contact with a living creature and without any of my possessions save the clothing I wore. Even my staff was gone. You who are not a wielder of magic do not fully understand the bond a wizard has with his staff. However, the woman returned with several others and said that I would dwell within the village until such time as they decided to release me or kill me. And so I dwelt there for several years, though I am not sure how many."  
  
There was a momentary darkening and bitterness of tone when she spoke of the bond between a wizard and their staff, but it passed as she moved on. Chenalai, now thinking of happier times, more pleasant memories, took another drink of her wine and began to eat her food. "The people of that town and myself grew fond of each other. A few times a year gnolls would come out of the mountains to raid the place, but they, uh, never returned." There was an almost mischievous glint in the half drow's eyes. "That's not to say I killed them. Well, I killed a good number of them, but I taught the townsfolk how to fend off their village. From them, most especially Esmend, the old woman, I learned much of wood lore and of life upon the surface. The settlement was surrounded on three sides by forest and upon the third by a river and a valley where they grew their crops. A few years ago, however, Esmend died and I felt the stirring to see more of the surface world once again. Thus, despite the protests of most of the villagers and all of the children, I left."  
  
Her eyes were full of a bittersweet joy mingled with a longing, but no shadow. "I still miss them all... Since then, I have essentially wandered, taking things as they come. I've come across a few secluded groups of wood elves. All attacked me on sight, save one group. One of their number came and talked to me for a while. Then, she returned to the band and discussed something with them. After a while, she returned, looking annoyed. She told me that the others wanted to kill me, but she did not and that I should be on my way before I was shot with an arrow. Taking her not so subtle hint, I left."  
  
Pausing a moment, Chenalai was silent, thinking. "That was about two months ago. Hearing of Longsaddle and the Harkles, I journeyed away from the woods and reached Thavven the day before yesterday. You can guess why I wanted to come to Ivy Mansion. My grandfather being one reason. Anyway, today I came here with Morro. That is my story in brief, though it has still taken long in the telling."  
  
With a sigh, Chenalai finished the last of her dinner and drained the last of her wine. "What about you?" she questioned the one she would call brother.  
  
Drizzt remained silent for several long moments, thinking over all she had said. Then, he looked up at her, meeting the intense green of her gaze with the deep lavender of his own. "Your journey was easier than mine, but... you know of when I left and why, so I won't bother repeating that. However, you know little of what happened in between such events as my encounter with Briza and Dinin and the destruction of the spirit wraith of Zaknafein and my coming to the surface. So, I shall start with what happened after I left the city..."  
  
Drizzt told the tale, in brief as Chenalai had done, of his primal existance in the Underdark for a decade, of giving himself up to the svirfnebli of Blingdenstone, of Belwar and of the pursuit of the spirit wraith. He told her of Clacker, of the illithidsm of the journey to the surface and of the scorching of the sun. He told of the boy who named him 'drizzit,' of Ulgulu, of the rangers, most especially Montolio, called Mooshie, and of Roddy McGristle. The drow told her also of the Weeping Friars, of Hephaestus and of the journey to Ten Towns and Kelvin's Cairn. Lastly, the ranger related the tale of how he had come to meet Catti-bree, Bruenor, Wulfgar and Regis and the subsequent events leading to the journey he was now on.  
  
When he finished, both were silent for a long time before Chenalai spoke. "Much we both have been through and yet shall go through for we have centuries of life before us. My heart is torn in three. One part of me desires to travel with you and your companions, gaining their trust of course. Another part of me wishes to remain here and learn what I can from my kin. Yet another part of me is... No... I do not wish to speak of that part... Oh Drizzt, you may have been able to easily forsake the ways of the drow and their darkness, but... Things happened to me since you left... The things I do not wish to speak of, but they changed me... They increased my revulsion of the drow... But the darkness inside of me grew and has grown, gaining more control over me no matter how I fight it. It isn't the shadows of the dark elves, but something else..."  
  
Drizzt opened his mouth to say something, but Chenalai abruptly stood up, trembling, her eyes shadowed, full of worry. He glanced at her staff. This time, not only did the symbols of dark stand out, but they most assuredly glowed with an unholy light. The most prominent rune was not the spider one of Lolth, but a mark of dark flame. Suddenly, the female cried out softly in alarm and swayed upon her feet. She took a step towards the door and stumbled, using her staff to keep herself from falling. They were the only ones in the Fuzzy Quarterstaff due to the fact that it was rather late at night, perhaps even early morning, so Drizzt was the only one who bore witness to the strange behavior of Chenalai.  
  
Worried, the drow rushed forward, in front of the mage and grabbed her shoulders, shaking them. "Chenalai!" he called. "What is the matter?"  
  
She blinked, seemed to focus upon Drizzt and then her eyes narrowed. "Nothing!" she hissed, her voice deeper, sinister and dripping with dark poison. "Leave me alone, fool!" Then, the green eyes opened wide and the shadow vanished. The eyes instead filled with pain. With a soft cry, Chenalai fainted, falling into the arms of her uncle.

* * *

Author stuff:  
  
So... In this chapter, we find out how and why Chenalai did escape the Underdark. We also begin to see this strange darkness that clings to the half drow. What is it? What is it's purpose? Why is it there? Well... the answer is:  
  
Did you really think I was going to tell you? Hah! Nope! You must wait until such time as I write the next chapter. The reason I got this one out so fast is because I couldn't sleep and my writer's muse was banging on my head with something... I am not quite sure what... Only that it was hard and left a big lump, which, as I pointed out to yon muse, is not conducive to writing... but it doesn't care....  
  
Anyway... I still think there is something off with the second chapter.... I realize that the Fuzzy Quarterstaff is simply a bar and that there are no rooms there, but I forgot when I was writing the second chapter. Oh well. It's a little late to change that right now, but I will get around to it... Sometime... Maybe?  
  
The fourth chapter I might write by the time I have to leave for camp, but then again, I might not. I do have to go to a wonderful, week long camp so 'tis likely my chapter making shalt be delayed.  
  
Please R&R!!  
  
(don't be afraid to flame... I like fire... It is so pretty... Like snow... only hot... and it BuRnS things... hehe) 


	4. Shadows

{The same disclaimer applies to this chapter.

I really ought to stop staying up to the wee hours writing these chapters, but that happens to be when my muse smacks me.

I hope you enjoy this installment of my story.}  
  
Chapter 4

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Chenalai awoke shortly before dawn and found herself lying upon a soft bed with linen sheets covering her. Her eyes were at first unable to focus upon anything, but after a few moments her vision became clear. She slowly brought herself up to her elbows, staring about the small room. The bed was in one corner, a window overlooking its foot and a nightstand at its side. Upon the small table were the mage's belt, pouches, flask, scroll case and dagger. Her staff leaned against the corner nearest the foot of her bed and her cloak was draped across said bed. The wooden door to the room was almost closed, a small fraction of the hallway visible through the opening. Sighing, she leaned back against the pillow once more and put her hands to her head.  
  
"What happened?" she asked herself aloud. "How could I loose control of it like that? Why did it happen? When I've spoken of such things before... It has only stirred... It has never tried to seize control like that..."  
  
With a shudder, she rolled over and sat up at the edge of the bed. The first thing she noticed as she did so was that the floor was cold. The second thing was that her boots and gloves lay neatly upon the floor nearby. Sighing softly, Chenalai pulled the boots upon her feet and began to draw the gloves over her hands when she halted, eyes wide with shock. Upon the palm of her right hand was the symbol of dark flame. It had been there since... Since the incident... but now it was a greenish black and quite distinct, not the vague blur of before. It contrasted with her skin, as it had a purplish tint, in the spectrum of colors, but even more so in the inferred spectrum. There, it was the dark black of no heat as opposed to the soft glow of her skin. The half drow moaned and clenched her fist. The shade was growing stronger, strong enough to leave a mark even when it had been driven back into the deepest depths of her soul.  
  
Chenalai shivered again, then pulled her gloves on. Standing up, she glared icily at her staff and proceeded to girt her belt. Then, after checking to make sure all its contents were in order, she fastened her cloak about her. She reached for her scarf, tucked away in a pouch, but thought better of it and walked over to her staff. With a grimace, she noticed that the symbol of dark flame stood out more than the others, though only slightly. The half drow reached out and gingerly picked up her staff and gasped as she felt a momentary shock of cold pain. It quickly subsided, but it troubled Chenalai. That... that shadow was fighting tooth and nail to gain control over her once more, even as it had those years ago in Menzoberranzan...  
  
Driving such thoughts away, Chenalai strode out of the door and into the hall. There was a peaceful tranquillity in the air that only came in the solitude before dawn, when life began its cycle ever anew. The half drow looked up and down the corridor and located stairs to the lower level. She trod lighttly upon the wooden floor, the boards making the barest squeak, only detectable by ears beyond sensitive or one who listened for such a sound.  
  
Drizzt barely heard the infinitesimal sound for the twentieth time since he had awoken, an hour ago. The first nineteen times it had simply been the house shifting. This time, it sounded different, though the drow could not place how. Therefore, he assumed that it was Chenalai, rose from his seat and opened the door. It creaked in protest causing Drizzt to wince and Chenalai to spin around in alarm, her staff raised and her right hand flexed, ready to cast a spell. When she saw it was only Drizzt, she sighed, relaxing and seeming very uncomfortable indeed.  
  
Ever the one to be concerned for those he considered dear and even those he did not, the drow stepped quickly to her side. "Are you all right?" he asked, the worry quite evident in his tone and in his warm purple eyes. "What happened last night?"  
  
Chenalai would not meet his eyes, but stared at the floor. "I am fine," she lied. "I..." Unsure what to say, she fell silent, turning from Drizzt and starting towards the stairs at a rapid pace. "Please do not follow me," she whispered as the other caught up, placing a firm hand upon her shoulder. "And please let me go... What happened last night is between my shadow and myself. You do not need to be involved and I don't want you to be."  
  
"Chenalai," pleaded Drizzt, keeping his hand upon her shoulder. "Do not lift burdens greater than you may bear. Even now, I see you falling under this great weight you still carry. Please torment yourself no longer! Surely whatever it is may be conquered, but not, it seems, by you alone. Let other's aid you..."  
  
A tear trickled down the cheek of the mage as she pulled away. "The burden I bear is one that must be born alone," murmured she, as the green eyes looked back at Drizzt. Her tone was soft and full of sorrow. "If you were to try and aid me, you, too, would be dragged down into fathomless shadows, never to return to the light. The shade that plagues me I took of my own free will... Farewell... Brother that I never had..."  
  
With that, Chenalai was gone, fleeing down the stairs and out the door with all speed. Drizzt ran after her, but when he made it out the door of the particular section of Ivy Mansion, he could see her not. He ran to the bridge over the river to see if that was the way she had taken, but he saw no trace of the mage. Cursing and lamenting silently, he returned to his room to gather his things.

* * *

)(

* * *

Morro awoke suddenly, hearing voices outside the door of the guest bedroom he was using while his cousin slept in his own. He poked his head through the door and saw Chenalai and Drizzt conversing in low tones. Frowning, he strained his ears to catch the words. He heard only what Chenalai said before she hastened away. What was the shade, the burden she spoke of? Furrowing his brow, Morro thought through the few sentaces once more, puzzling their meaning. Something within her, the shade, was slowly pulling her into the darkness, the Harpell surmised, something she had willingly taken... But what?  
  
With a worried sigh, the wizard retreated back into his chamber and sat upon the bed, brooding. It was not long before dawn came and with it came Morro's determination to find Chenalai and follow her. He had grown fond of her during their short journey and wished to help ease her suffering. The mage wasn't in love, but he was her friend.  
  
Grim was his face when he crept down the staircase, bearing his staff and miscellaneous pouches. However, just as he reached to open the door, a voice from behind him called out softly.  
  
"Leaving are you, Morro? Are you off to follow Chenalai?"  
  
Spinning around, the mage was relieved to see that it was Drizzt. Morro nodded. "Don't try to stop me. I heard what she said, or part of it, and I mean to find out what in Nine Hells she is talking about."  
  
The drow, leaning against the wall, nodded. "I would come with you, but I am bound to travel with my companions, most especially Bruenor and I would never break my oath to him. Still..." he sighed.  
  
"I understand, but you can at least tell me a few things, though you may not go with me. You were speaking with her last night. Was there any sign of this shadow she spoke of? Was there any hint as to what it might be?"  
  
The drow nodded once more and told of the darkening of Chenalai's eyes and the runes upon the staff. "Occasionally she would shudder. These instances occurred when she spoke of unpleasant memories, dark memories. When we had finished our discussion, she spoke of the shadow, but did not say much beyond this: Things happened to her after I had departed from our city, things she refused to speak of. Then the shadow came again and this time it seemed to gain control before she apparently thrust it back, opening her eyes wide and letting out a cry of pain. After that, she fainted and I brought Chenalai to her room. That is all... Wait! I do remember the rune of dark flame seemed to glow more than the others."  
  
Morro's brow furrowed as he thought of that rune. It was an ancient and evil symbol of many things, but namely of three things: extremely powerful magic of darkness, unholy fire and the dragons of a plane of absolute darkness, so full of shadows that they consumed light itself. Shuddering, he said as much to Drizzt. "The magic of darkness it implies is simply the wielding of shadows, both on the material plane and elsewhere. The unholy fire is of another realm and is a black fire unquenchable, every tongue containing a strange evil power. The only thing it could plausibly be would be one of those creatures..."  
  
"A dragon? But how could that be it? I know of that plain and of the creatures there for they are sometimes used by the drow, but the last dragon within that realm was slain a thousand years ago."  
  
"That is what worries me. What if the dragon was not the last or if it was not destroyed but only wounded? It could be the shadow Chenalai speaks of, but I dearly hope that we are wrong, for if it is one such creature, then Chenalai is doomed no matter what we do. If this is so, she must have sacrificed herself to be bound with the dragon, one of the few ways of bringing such darkness under control," murmured the mage, his tone hushed and tense. "If one of those creatures is bound with one of the material plane, the one it is bound to is the shield preventing it from entering our plane, in any form save for that of the binder. Thus the two are in a constant duel for control. If the binder manages to completely thrust the creature into its home plane, then he might be able to gain mastery over the creature entirely, but it has never happened. It is only a theory. What has happened in the past is that the binder looses control over their own form upon this plane and the creature controls them, using their combined power to destroy and consume. However, sometimes it happens that the binder is able to prevent this from happening, but it usually means a long, slow and painful death..."  
  
The two were silent long moments before Drizzt nodded, his lavender eyes sad, the faintest hint of tears at their edges. "Then you should go and find her. Bring her here at the least. Among so many wizards, it may be possible that something may be done to ease her predicament. If you hear of which direction she is headed and it be east towards Silverymoon and beyond, then come and tell me, for that is the way my companions and myself are headed. Then you might journey with us for a time. Otherwise, be gone after her as swiftly as you may."  
  
"I will."  
  
Morro turned and left, retrieving his horse and heading across the bridge. Drizzt, too, turned and headed to the rooms to awaken the others.

* * *

Author watchamacallit :  
  
Hehehe... Getting a bit darker, is it not? In the next few chapters, you will see why this is rated PG-13. Right now, it would only be a PG, but soon... very soon...  
  
Anyway, I am still having trouble with a title. Help is always appreciated on that subject.  
  
You might notice that the chapters now have simple titles. I had enough inspiration left over after this chapter to think of titles to those, but not enough to think of a good title.  
  
Please tell me if Drizzt or anyone is too out of character and let me know if you find something inherently wrong with this. I don't mind flame! Really, I don't!  
  
Please R&R!! 


	5. Acceptance of Fate

( The same disclaimer as before... )

Chapter 5

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Chenalai had run with all speed out of Ivy Mansion, across the river and through the invisible wall, ignoring the calls of early rising wizards. Tears blinded her vision. She had found one of the few places where she could perhaps be at peace, only to have /it/ awaken in her again. From past experience, she knew the longer she stayed there, the more likely it would stir and put forth its power as it had done the previous night.  
  
A voice within her said that it would make no difference where she ran, for it was always there and always would be. The half drow cursed that part of her heart, saying to it that if she remained among others, then it might use her to destroy them, or worse, pull them into the shadows with her. The voice argued that it was not so, that the companionship and support of friends would lend her strength to keep /it/ at bay, perhaps even to master it in its own realm. Chenalai considered this for a few moments, then responded by asking the voice, what if it didn't work? What if the shadow gained control over her despite the aid of friends? It was too great a risk. Her heart seemed to sigh. Then it replied with a question of its own.  
  
_What have you got to loose? You have already lost you soul. If you continue as you are now, either it will eventually gain complete control over you and use you to force its way back into the world or you will be forced to endure its attacks, its tortures until you die... Then the gate will be sealed, but at the loss of your soul. Even then, your soul would remain trapped on the shadow realm instead of at the brink. Is this what you want? There is no chance for you that way!_  
  
The mage halted her walk down the road, staring back at the mere dot on the horizon that was Ivy Mansion, which she had left a little over an hour before. Her hair whipped about her in the steady wind as Chenalai hesitated.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
Morro, after speaking with the wizard currently guarding the entrance, determined that the half drow had set off north and had an hour's lead on him. Morro nodded and set his horse down outside the fence where it returned to its normal size. Then he placed the bridal and saddle upon the horse and mounted, spurring Chory northward along the road with all haste.  
  
- - - - - - - - -  
  
As Chenalai wavered, the voice of the creature penetrated her thoughts.  
  
_Listen not to those false thoughts, it said in a deep, dark tone. I am thy master and thou shalt obey me! Submit!  
_  
"No," replied the mage, her voice hard, emotionless. "I wouldn't submit to you then and I won't now."  
  
_Then thy torment shalt be unbearable until thou thinkest otherwise, foolish mortal._  
  
"So be it," Chenalai murmured sadly. She shuddered as a wave of pain coursed through her body. "Just know that I shall resist you and you shall be held within your shadowed realm for eternity. I knew what would happen when I bound myself to you and now I am the barrier preventing you from crossing into this realm."  
  
The creature hissed and the rune of dark flame seemed to be burning with a black fire. _And so shall it be until you die!_ Images of all the torment, darkness and horror that the creature meant to inflict upon the one who had bound it flashed through Chenalai's head and she moaned softly, closing her eyes. Suddenly, the images ceased and the creature's tone softened and took on an almost caressing feel. _But I am feeling merciful. I shall give thee a chance now to end thy life swiftly and without pain!  
_  
Chenalai opened her eyes and shook her head with a bitter laugh. "That would only open the door for you. If I take my life, I would do so in fear, anger or grief and such emotions could strengthen you enough that you could push your way through my soul and my torment would still have no end. Did you think I was such a fool?"  
  
For a moment, the creature simply fumed, sending pain shooting through Chenalai. She half collapsed upon the staff. _No matter what you do, endless pain shall be thy lot, Chenalai! When thou diest at last, it will matter not by whose hand for thy pain shalt not end and I shall shread thy soul as I make my way into thy plain at last.  
_  
Despite the clawing ache that now encompassed Chenalai's arms as she clung to the staff for support, she laughed. It was wild, humorless laughter that mocked the darkness and angered it. "So you think and dispute you I will not, save to say this: When I die, I shall accept my fate without complaint and that is the flaw in your plan. Now begone!"  
  
With a shriek of rage, the black flame went out, sending one last crippling burst of pain into its binder. Chenalai fell to her knees, the bitter laughter falling from her lips once more. After a few moments, she was able to get to her feet and revel in her triumph. Her laughter died, however, as she thought of where to go. Still, the half drow hesitated. Then, with a grim sigh, she decided to go with the wisdom of her heart and turned back toward Ivy Mansion and Longsaddle.  
  
After a few minutes of walking, or, rather, stumbling for the discourse with the dark thing had left her weak, Chenalai heard the beating of a horse's hooves down the road. She paused a moment, looking up to see a dark shape headed her way. Wondering who it might be and if they might be seeking her, Chenalai stood, awaiting their approach.  
  
Presently, the horse and rider came close enough that their identities could be made out. The pair consisted of Morro and his horse, Chory. Chenalai waved to them and Morro waved back. A moment later, Chory came to a halt next to the half drow and Morro lept off of the horse's back.  
  
"Not running away, are you?" asked the concerned wizard.  
  
"Not anymore. I think I simply needed some time to... consider," replied Chenalai, wearily. "I suppose you, being a mage, and Drizzt, being Drizzt, have figured out, or at least think you've figured out, what the shadow is and why I bear it?"  
  
Morro, taken aback, nodded.  
  
"So what is this shadow? I'm curious to see what you've worked out."  
  
The wizard was silent a moment, then he said, "We believe, based on the particular rune that glows on your staff, that the shadow is a dragon from that black plain whose name I will not speak. You bound yourself to it in an effort to keep it from emerging onto this plain, though we have yet to figure out your reasons for such a thing."  
  
"I'm impressed. Few magi still remember what the rune is much less what it stands for," sighed the half drow. "But that doesn't mean I shall tell you why just yet. Drizzt and his companions will likely have left by the time we return to Ivy Mansion, so I suggest we head back there ourselves for there is the slim chance that we might catch them before they leave. I don't intend to go with them any farther than Silverymoon, though."  
  
Shaking his head in amazement, Morro said, "I don't think I am even going to ask what so changed your mind. Let's go then."  
  
With a chuckled, Chenalai mounted the horse behind him. "Good, because I don't think I can explain without seeming to have lost my sanity."  
  
Morro turned Chory about and the headed back south along the road at a fast clip.

* * *

Author stuff  
  
_Chichix :_  
  
Umm... I am not sure what to say... I am really flattered by your compliments! Thank you, also, for the helpful review! I much prefer such review to one or two word ones.  
  
Yes, I meant 'pole,' but by the time I realized that error, it was a little late to change it. You can't edit stories when they've already been submitted, much to my sorrow. And I think I meant to have ' surrounding thoughts as opposed to ".  
  
About the cousin thing: All the Harpells are interrelated. That is why they are all Harpells. The bloodline I made up just because I was really bored and had nothing to do. I started with a role-play character I made up (Chenalai, a drow mage with green eyes, of a noble house) and then thought, "Well... What would explain the green eyes, the not exactly cruel disposition and the fact that she is a mage when noble female drow become priestesses? Hmm... Well, the drow do go to the surface to raid on occasion. Perchance that they didn't kill all of the wood elves on a particular raid, instead taking a couple as slaves? Possibilities..." (I will get around to writing up her background, though, don't worry)  
  
About the title: I have never been good at coming up with titles.  
  
_Dawn of Twilight:_  
  
I like long reviews! Thanks for the title suggestion... Maybe you're thinking of the Dark is Rising sequence?  
  
Other stuff: Hmm... People actually read my writing! I am amazed and very happy! Here is the next chapter and you won't be getting any more for a week. I will be at a camp far away from any computers or Internet. Ok, so it isn't that far from civilization, but I still won't be able to type.


	6. Dark Memories

Chapter 6  
  
(This is a flash back of sorts...)  
  
In the darkest dimension, the most evil plane of existence, there dwelt a dragon made from the darkest shadows. These were not the shadows cast by an object thrust into the light, but the shadows that lay upon the hearts of the dwellers in other planes. These were the shadows of fear, of hatred, of malice, of cruelty and of chaos; mixed and molded together to form a dragon of terrible power, cruelty and malevolence, a creature of destruction and overwhelming shadow. It was the last of its kind, so far as it knew, and it was all the more powerful for lack of rivals. The creature had a name that none dared utter, though it had been long presumed dead. However, Deathguise was the closest translation in the common tongue.  
  
Deathguise had entered the material plane on numerous occasions throughout history, but had never stayed long for risk of loosing his dominion in his own realm. However, now that he was the last and had no fear of another such dragon conquering while he was away, Deathguise longed to return the material plane in full power and majesty. There, he would rule unchallenged for centuries untold and such omnipotence was pleasing to him. The fear and hatred of him, so vile and cruel a master would satiate his hunger and the blood shed by his conquest would quench his thirst.  
  
An apprentice drow sorcerer had been so foolish as to summon him in an attempt to gain power and Deathguise had thought this his opportunity to enter the world. Even as he broke the pentagram meant to keep him at bay and devoured the mage's soul and body, other dark elves had come, flinging spells at the dragon. Deathguise roared a command wrought with terrible power and many of the lesser sorcerers fell to their knees, overwhelmed. As he did battle with the master mages, priestesses of Lolth including several matron mothers entered the chamber and joined the fray. However, Deathguise, now almost entirely present in the material plane, was undaunted. In fact, he considered the resistance before him to be pathetic at best.  
  
Then, he heard the wavering call of the rune of dark flame, his own rune and paused, turning to its source, a diminutive mage not even of pure drow blood. Growling in fury at the one who dared try to command him and his rune, he opened his massive jaws to consume the female. She raised her staff high and called the name of the rune again and this time Deathguise felt the power of the dark flame hold him to her will, if only for a short time. Surprised, the dragon did not immediately attempt to break free. It was at this time that the mage looked into the burning red eyes of Deathguise and uttered the rune and spell of binding. The dragon could never forget those green eyes, ever changing like the leaves of a tree in a summer breeze. They were filled with a strange fire, the likes of which he had never before seen in a drow, and they held deep sorrow, pain and grim determination.  
  
With a strangled howl of rage, Deathguise tried to leap forward and attack this small mage, but he found he could not. Therefore, he pushed his will against the binding and against the dark flame, but the combined power of the two runes held. He pushed again, harder, driving his might against the mage. She fell to her knees, her will striving with his own, though their eyes remained locked. The other sorcerers and priestesses ceased their chanting as they felt the duel of powers between the mighty dragon and the young mage they had scorned and reviled for her mixed blood. Few of the masters or matrons knew exactly what was passing between the two, locked together by some force, though all perceived the strange bond and mighty struggle.  
  
As they watched, the half drow began to murmur the spell of sealing. The dragon growled and seemed to grow darker, more menacing, taking a single step forward. The mage slowly pulled herself to her feet, but was sent flying backwards as if from a blow. She continued to chant the incantation. Despite numerous blows against her, she somehow completed the spell and all but collapsed upon her staff. She was bleeding in many places, a few ribs seemed broken and she seemed on the verge of blacking out. Nevertheless, with a final thrust of effort, she held her staff aloft and cried the final words, the names of the three runes of power. The symbols flashed upon the pole, each with a different light and then the lights combined, flowing outward to surround both the girl and the dragon. Deathguise screamed in anger and lunged forward at the young mage, throwing her hard against the wall even as she cried the master rune, the rune that ended all spells of great power. Against all possibility, the sorcerer lifted her head from the ground where she lay in a mangled heap, at least one, more likely two limbs broken. Before Deathguise could crawl forward and devour the helpless mage, however, he met her green eyes, filled with tortuous pain, and saw a gleam of triumph. Then he felt her command over him and was forced back through the portal opened by the one who had summoned him. He tried to resist, but the spell, now completed, forced him to obey. For now, the mage had the greater control over their shared bond. Screaming and bellowing with rage, Deathguise disappeared back to his own plane.  
  
Once he was beyond the border and the portal closed behind him, the mage moaned in agony then slipped into a semiconscious state, nigh unto death. Because of the bond now present, Deathguise could feel her injuries and pain, but dully. Still, he fed upon it, brooding upon revenge. Also, he thought upon the ancient spell she had performed. It would likely kill her, but her soul would remain bound to his and, unless he could break the spell, he, too, would die. However, if he could gain a little more control over the bond, then Deathguise could draw her soul into his realm and therefore open a gateway and be able to torment for eternity the drow who had outwitted him, who had dared use the runes against him. Despite her weakened state, he could not gain the mastery of the bond for it was still fresh and she possessed the staff. Another way to cause pain to that mage and be able to open the way for him would be to break the staff, but that was almost impossible for the dragon to achieve while he was in his own realm.  
  
The mage felt the dark thoughts of the dragon, at least the ones it did not conceal, and her soul shivered even as it wavered upon the edge of death. Her body had been carefully taken from the chamber of summoning and brought back to her house. It had been placed upon a cot in a small room near the family's temple. There, she lay, dying by inches while her family sat together in an adjoining room, discussing what had happened and what should be done. Malice, having only recently asked for Zin-carla, dared not summon a yochol to inquire about Deathguise and what had transpired between the mage and he, but she was certain that Matron Baerne would.  
  
"You are proved quite wrong Briza," she remarked to her oldest daughter as Vierna was sent off to fetch a few healing potions for the mage. "Chenalai has indeed proved useful. Surely we have risen in the favor of Lolth today because of her actions."  
  
"But what did she do, matron mother?" demanded Maya.  
  
"That remains a mystery. She cast a spell of great power using runes only a master is allowed access to," interjected Briza. "Will not her superiors in Sorcere be angered?"  
  
"Perhaps. That is a great risk, so I shall order her to remain here," replied Malice, thoughtfully, after a few moments of silence. "Still, I wonder why she has not displayed her power before or at least eliminated a few other mages to improve her rank among the wizards. Perhaps it has something to do with her loyalty to Zaknafein and Drizzt. She shares in their distaste of Lolth and her own people. Well, that is a matter best left till later."  
  
At that moment, Vierna returned. "I set her broken bones then administered the potion," she murmured. "Chenalai is now sleeping, healing. The wounds, however, are healing slower than they should. I think that they should be completely healed in a few days if we administer a potent healing potion daily."  
  
"That is good. Once she is able to talk, we can force answers out of her!" hissed Briza.  
  
Malice shot a silencing look at her oldest daughter. "Such things may be best left to her alone for now. You will have plenty of time to get answers when Chenalai is fully healed and aware of her position. She may not even know what happened."  
  
The mage was not asleep as her family believed. Though barely able to retain consciousness, she listened to their conversation and through her Deathguise listened, too. When she heard them open the door and depart, Chenalai allowed herself to slip into peaceful oblivion, shattered only by dark dreams given her by the dragon in which the mage moaned and screamed, writhing upon the bed, despite the injuries, and clutching her staff tightly. The high priestesses attempted to read her thoughts and see what troubled her so, but they were blocked by the unseen shadow of the dragon.  
  
Thus, a week passed before Chenalai regained consciousness. Even then, she was week and her nights continued to be disturbed by the dreams. However, slowly she was able to force the dreams away and gain untroubled sleep, but Chenalai was never wholly able to thrust the nightmares aside.  
  
)(  
  
As Chenalai and Morro rode along in silence, the half drow contemplated her ongoing battle with Deathguise even as the dragon brooded upon it in his own realm. He had lost another battle with the mage, but he had discovered her doubt and cackled evilly. Deathguise sat, cogitating upon the ways he could turn this to his advantage.  
  
Chenalai felt pleasure tickle the dragon and shivered, wondering what had made him happy. However, she was dead tired, her most recent confrontation having called to mind the pain of wounds suffered at the dragon's claws, of the dreams and of the immense struggle and also the strength and energy she had spent in casting and maintaining the spell. Because of this expenditure, she was unable to divert too much of her power towards casting other spells. Yawning softly, Chenalai drew her mind away from her dark memories to other things. Then, with a sigh, she leaned her head against Morro's shoulder and drifted off to sleep as his horse, Chory, plodded along.  
  
Author stuff:  
  
Well, I know I said I would write a back story and I still intend to, but this little bit of history is necessary, at least in my mind, for you to understand some up-coming events. I know this whole story is strange and rather unbelievable, but I am just letting my mind come up with an interesting plot, etc. This is my first fan fiction, you know... Anyway, please R&R if you have not done so and R&R the new stuff if you have...  
  
I don't mind constructive criticism. It is the ranting sort that offers no suggestions for improvement that I dislike.  
  
Dragon of Darkness 


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